


Something Else Completely

by greyrey



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It, Multi, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:56:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22292197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyrey/pseuds/greyrey
Summary: Alright, Ben Solo lives...but now what? A Rise of Skywalker fix-it fic.Canonverse to the last second of the kiss, of course.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	Something Else Completely

The roar of rain hitting the hull of the Falcon eased from deafening to a steady white noise. Emergency and runner cabin lights flickered for a moment as the onboard power system self-regulated. This was the emptiest the ship had been since Jakku. 

Similarly, the entire base on Ajan Kloss, packed to the gills and in constant chaos for over a year, was mostly abandoned. Following the Battle of Exegol, the fearful clamor of survival and racket of mobilization and urgent meetings had given way to a riotous celebration and now, finally, calm. 

Both Black and Gold squadrons had set off with a large group of auxiliary forces back to the Core Worlds. Several Mon Calamari cargo ships had loaded up the long-term supplies and larger modules of the base, leaving only the upturned dirt and rustled vegetation of numerous temporary homesteads and make-shift workshops. 

But as the Resistance began to scatter to the galaxy, one notorious Corellian freighter sat in its familiar parking spot. 

Alone in the cockpit, Rey stared through the simple geometry of the windshield. Veils of moisture blurred details of the dense forest that surrounded her. The mass of greenery was as comforting as it was majestic, creating a womb-like canopy for this very durable heap of a ship that, somehow, still felt so fragile. She idly poked at a communication wire and let out a deep, appreciative sigh for her new normal. It was a post-war galaxy now, for what felt like the first time in a lifetime -- maybe even several. 

She glanced down at the distant figure of Poe making a run for his X-Wing, jacket held high over his head and BB8 trailing erratically over the wet ground behind him. She softened at thoughts of her Resistance crew: Rose’s diligence and mechanical brilliance, Finn’s huge heart and blossoming leadership, Poe’s infectious humor, persisting in the face of hopelessness. She thanked the maker they had all made it out. Considering how close of a call this last one was, there hadn’t been a guarantee until the very end. The idea of losing anyone made her feel dazed and wobbly. Too soon.

A sharp pang hit her gut with an intrusive memory of Leia’s passing. Just as quickly, the hurt was replaced by shock, as she sensed the faintest trace of the General’s signature in the Force. In the same moment, Rey heard the dull thud of boots approach her from behind. The signature rapidly deepened and transformed. She understood. 

“Here. You should eat something.”

It was the muted bass of a voice so long in her head, or modulated behind a mask. It was a voice with a peculiar tone that was always leaping from menacing to provocative to desperate. Now, however, it sounded unusually tender. It was also accompanied by a slightly shaky offering of a steaming bowl of stew. Her breath caught as her eyes followed the rising steam to where it dissipated around his chest, then his face. He was still wearing that black sweater. The one with the lightsaber hole burnt in it. She nearly smiled at the thought. 

Holey or not, here was her souvenir from Exegol: one Ben Solo, home at last.  
She was still coming to grips that he was real, alive, and here with her, and how eerily well it matched her vision on Ahch-To. The events of the last few days were patchy, both dream- and nightmare-like --- but somehow still exactly what she had expected, a long time coming. Her mind was just beginning to make sense of it all.

“Thanks,”  
She took the bowl into her lap and watched him slump, still exhausted, into the copilot’s chair. She noted how absurd he looked in the small space they were now -- very consciously -- sharing. The ratty cabin of the Falcon was such a stark departure from the backdrop of a First Order ship. At least with the sweater he was already starting to fit in, she thought. He turned slightly to face her, offering a tight-lipped smile of his own as he watched her take the first sip. She nodded in gratitude and met his gaze. It was soft, but intentional. Despite having staring contests of far greater intensity with him in the past, this look held a new, very specific weight. 

Rey felt the slightest tendrils of curiosity reach into the back of her mind. Her eyes closed as she welcomed it, calm and pliant. 

“You’re still afraid,” he said after a moment, almost amused. “But not like before.”  
She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. 

“And you haven’t quite accepted that I’m here. That any of this is happening.” 

Her chest tightened a bit. She put her spoon down, eyes opened to a narrow stare.

“So that’s what we’re going to do now, just the whole...” she pointed from her temple to his forehead “...mind-thing? Can we maybe turn it off for a bit, have a normal chat, or...” she said flatly.

He let out a short laugh. 

“I’m glad you think it’s funny,” she mumbled, shoveling away another spoonful.

A few breaths passed. The rain beat slightly harder on the windshield now. Ben’s face turned more serious, despite the fact that Rey was now two-hands-on-the-bowl and unapologetically slurping the stew.

“I know we’ve been on a steady routine of bacta and sleep since _what happened_ , but-” 

She shot him a look and without so much as wiping her broth-soaked lip, cut him off:  
“You mean since I found out I’m the granddaughter of the presumed dead and former most powerful Sith ruler of the galaxy who was, surprise, actually still alive, and then revealed that he not only *created* SNOKE - which raises a LOT of questions, I might add - but also infiltrated your mind for most of your life with the goal of putting us together on his dark throne as Emperor or Empress?” She cocked her head with a small pause, then continued. 

“Or perhaps you meant that other part about you finally coming back to the light as your former self, Ben Solo? Just like I saw in my vision? Was it one of those, or are we talking about something else?” 

Ben shrank back. His eyes anxiously traveled to the ceiling as if looking for an escape hatch, then dropped his chin and grunted at the floor.

“You kissed me,” 

Rey put down the empty bowl with a look of disbelief. She carefully folded her hands and leaned onto her knees.

“You’re joking, right? That’s what you choose to bring up right now? Our first item of business, after all that?” her voice went shrill with frustration. 

He straightened his back nervously, clearly having hoped for a different response. Rey leaned into her chair, not expecting a response. She stared down at the floor with arms folded, gave her bicep a sharp squeeze - a sort self-comfort reflex - then remembered something. She relaxed a bit, eyelids going heavy, as she lifted her hand reaching ever so slightly toward Ben. The reaching hand had become a habit when it came to matters the Force. As the tension slipped from her body, she began to move into Ben's mind. With little effort, the emotions she was seeking surged into view: panic, insecurity, raw fear, a tinge of regret...and...shame..? But the current running through it all was impossible to ignore: a very powerful want. In an instant, she felt it mirrored in her own body. 

Rey felt her cheeks flush with her own embarrassment. He was aware of how exposed he was to her in this moment, but he didn’t make any move to leave or deflect or qualify it. It was a pointed difference, she thought, between Ben and Ren. It was also wildly intimate in a way the connection hadn’t felt before. 

She looked away. 

“Yeah. I did.” she said, before looking back. 

Rey’s voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. 

“I...told you...on the Death Star wreckage, after I...helped you. I said that...I would’ve…” 

His face was frozen, hanging on every word.

She took another breath.  
“I told you I wanted to take Ben’s hand.”

He nodded quickly and squeezed his eyes shut, as if in pain. He let out an anxious puff of breath. Rey couldn’t help but notice the shape of his lips as he did. They looked so soft and full. For a moment, she wished she had a decent memory of this Very Important Kiss they had tried to discuss just now. 

Ben opened his eyes, now tearful, and lifted his hand to her face. He brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear with a clearly pained expression. Rey's face went hot at his touch, but she didn’t flinch. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment before his arm collapsed back into his lap. He slumped against the Wookie-sized dent in the backrest, ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. She felt his emotions drop off, the thoughts turn dark.

“Everything’s gone,” he stated, almost non-sequitur.  
“the Sith, the Jedi, the Empire, the First Order, the Republic. It’s all vapor now. My mother-” his breath hitched. Rey noticed a tear streak almost exactly along the line where his scar used to run. 

Heart wrenching, Rey dropped her head to her hands and choked back tears of her own. It had taken a lot of energy to repress all of the feelings about Leia’s passing. She hadn’t even begun to let herself grieve, and was reluctant to do so now. One of them had to be strong.

Clearing her throat, she mustered the effort to hold her voice steady. He needed to hear the truth.

“You should know something, Ben, if you don't already. Your mother wanted this more than anyone,” she nodded at him, then gestured around to the inside of the Falcon. “She wanted it more than either of us, I think. I don't know anyone who sacrificed as much to the cause as General Leia, and after all those years of fighting toward some end to all this, all she really wanted for herself was to have you home, Ben. And look, here you are. Right where you were supposed to be, all along.” Rey felt her internal fortitude turn noodly as the words were replaced by a sob she caught in her throat.

 _Supposed to be._

Was this also where she belonged? Yes, in theory, she knew the Falcon was her home now -- but it would never be hers the way that it was so positively his: his father’s freighter, his mother’s dying wish, his grandfather’s lightsaber, even! Here she had somehow found herself in the middle of his entire family’s legacy -- the Skywalker Legacy. Pulling this thread began to reveal the absurdity of it all: history repeating itself. Here again, a Palpatine and a Skywalker brought together by the cosmic force as the strangest of bedfellows in their own time and context.

 _Bedfellows._

The sob turned to a muffled snort, and sound of her own laugh jolted her back to the present, where Ben was now staring at her, very uncertain. This display of emotion, especially coming from someone he thought of as rather unshakable, only underscored the general upside-down feeling of their present situation. 

But it was his turn to wax now.  
“You really think it’s that simple?” he asked the question of himself as much as Rey.  
“That I can give myself my old name again and that will erase the past, give me a new lease on life?” he all but spat the words and his face looked even paler than before. What little composure he still had was crumbling. 

This was no monster unmasked, Rey thought. Here was the face of a boy, one long eclipsed by some cruel persona. He was seeing the light of day again for the first time in decades. 

Rey caught his eyes with her own and held the stare, intensifying it. 

“Kylo Ren is dead,” she said.

Her eyes were unblinking in expectation of some protest from him. He flinched but said nothing, the silence lingered for a moment. 

“because I killed him. And now, Ben Solo is all that remains.” 

Without hesitation, she stood up and wove herself around the controls between them, energy still rising. She pinned herself between his knees and the flight panel in front of him, leaned down inches from his face, and ran her hand across the hole in his sweater. With genuine curiosity, she delicately reached to inspect the faint, perfectly circular scar with the tips of her fingers. 

With a baffling gentleness, her hand continued down his torso, causing him to tense. She sensed his pulse quicken: first steadily, then rapidly as she cocked her hip to the side and climbed into his lap. She laid back and looked up at him, adjusting herself into a crooked position against the armrest and across his lap. 

Her voice dipped even lower than her regular sultry tone.  
“We’re a Force Dyad, you know. Whatever the hell that means. Might as well start acting like one.” 

Without argument, he threaded his arms under her well-muscled shoulder blades and the crooks of her knees. 

Rey draped an arm around his neck and grinned, then lifted her calves and pressed each toe to opposite heel and let her still-blood-stained linen booties fall to the floor. As he watched the shoes tumble to the ground, something in him settled. “I’ve held you like this before,” his lips trembled a bit, his voice just above a whisper. She squinted back at him, clearly more at ease in this arrangement. 

“When was that?” she asked.

His body relaxed a little more, still. “When I brought you back, after...” he trailed off. 

She knew. The memories were mostly missing. The ones that remained were filled with holes. Still, she had a loose understanding of their brief experience in that dark place, one full of horror she’d rather not revisit.

But at that moment, something very different flashed into her mind. She was surrounded by trees, and stalking something. The sounds of blasters firing and TIE fighters whirred overhead. Then, a flash of sandy-colored tabards; she was walking toward herself, terrified and frozen in place. 

“Why are you thinking about that?” she asked sharply, aware that it was his memory she had seen in lieu of her own.

“About holding you on Exegol?” he asked.

“No, I just saw something completely different. You were thinking about that time way back at Maz’s castle. When you chased me,” she said slowly, frowning. 

Ben tightened his hold on her, attempting to pull her even closer.

“Yes. I held you like this back then, too.”  
Her frown grew into a look of confusion. “What?"

The memory flashed again, this time she watched herself go limp and fall perfectly into 'her' arms. Looking down at her own face, she felt a heart swell with compassion. The movements of this body carrying her now held a pointed gentleness. She pulled away from the memory, truly puzzled. 

"But why?" She asked. "We were enemies.”

He nodded.

“I thought you had something I wanted, yes.” 

Her face twisted a little further. “Didn’t I?”  
The corner of his mouth curled into a lopsided grin. 

“In a way.”

Rey tucked her head into a more comfortable position against his chest. The two sat pressed into each other, perfectly still but for the unison rise and fall of their breath. The rain continued.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is my first attempt at fanfiction. I've been reading fanfic since I was 12, so that puts me at a solid 20 years before taking the plunge, ahaha...leave it to Rise of Skywalker. 
> 
> I'm already working on Chapter 2 and hope to have it up before February!


End file.
